Hold Your Position
by SelC
Summary: Artemis enters Apollo into an agency to help his confidence come back. Ares is simply a bored god of war pretending to be a human for entertainment. The Olympian gods are trying to find the missing sun god before the autopilot sun crashes!
1. A Fighter

**Title:** Hold Your Position  
><strong>Rate:<strong> T  
><strong>Genre:<strong> Romance, Slash, Humor  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Apollo needs a timeout. He felt utterly destroyed one time, and no one knows why. Really, it's not because he's sick or something. He just really misses his mom. (Not the real Summary)  
><strong>Warning:<strong> Innuendos and an odd, OOCed Ares because of a potion. Hints of slash(gayness to be blunt), cursing, and very disturbing gods having an OOC streak... sometimes. **Criticism** and **flames **are allowed.

**Prompt: **Apollo hearing perverted things when Ares orders him around.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything... not at all. Well, you would not even be reading this if you do _not _know, right? I don't own _anything_. Not at all. You can contact my secretary and writer.

Hi there, guys! This is **SelC** reporting for duty, passing to you an unavoidable fanfic which will need your utmost support and, perhaps, gentle criticism... Nah, actually, you can flame me! I want to really know what's odd and unusual with this... I'm posting it for someone by B.S. (no, that's not the initials of Bu** and Sh**) since _he_ does not wish to be known as an, ahem, yaoi fan. Not that _he_ is gay... it was a dare. By me. And I loved torturing him.

I need to know which people prefer the most...

* * *

><p><strong>Hold Your Position<strong>

_**Ares**_

Ares' glare pierced through the subordinate's head. If looks could kill, he would be dead. He just suddenly burst through the door without permission or confirmation to enter. _How dare he defy my fucking orders!_

The pale man gave him a shaky greeting of, "The ex-general sent a new person and said I should call for you to initiate him."

Ares simply glared, assessed the situation and wondered if he should just end the life of the squeaky toy in front of him. He grunted and said, "I want you to get me your supervisor. Get out of my office, you stupid fuck."

The subordinate bowed, pale and sweaty, then he dashes out of the room point-two second flat. Ares snorted at his actions and stood up roughly, making his chair roll behind him. He glanced at his watch and saw that it was still a quarter to nine. He grumbled under his breath, cursing inwardly when he realized he just missed dinner. Damn—and he was just expecting to eat some chili for dinner.

He left his office, locked and secured with several traps, walking towards the stairs. During the walk down, he realized what the subordinate meant by a new private and scowled vehemently. Great, there was one wimpy neophyte to train and toughen up. Although it meant he would be accompanying the newbie to battles, it also meant that he would have to tolerate him and restrain himself from being an ass. He liked fights all right—except for a new trainee sent by Artemis.

Artemis is a stuck-up bitch, but she did her work well, especially when she gained her own troop. She left the agency and made her own, which she named _The Hunters,_ TH1. They settled themselves in several hidden camps in the woods, ambushing illegal settlers if they ever passed. Still, Ares' division was higher than anyone else's division. He always brought the best out of every soldier he trained. Some of his other supervisors seemed like they were slacking if one subordinate was out of place.

He reached the lobby's floor and the sight of his ex-second-in-command greeted him. The woman was pissed, obviously, when he arrived. She glanced at the watch on the wall and scowled angrily.

"You're late!" she accused. The newbie behind her did not even flinch. Ares, being taller than the woman is, could see tufts of blond hair with a similar to the sun's shade peeking from behind her.

Ares shrugged casually. "I wasn't aware that we have an appointment," he spat, grumbling under his breath. "I haven't eaten yet, Artemis, so don't talk to me like that."

"See? I told you we should have gone with my plan, but no," the melodic voice of the newbie started, "you wanted to rush and strap me to this agency immediately. I said the boss of this place would probably have nothing to eat, but no, you said we should not even bring him food. Gladly, I thought of that and I brought a meal."

Ares blinked rapidly, stunned at the voice. A youthful boy pushed the woman away, and he only saw blue eyes before a bag appeared near his face. A fair, peachy—_soft_—hand held the bag up carefully. Ares could smell a delicious scent of something spicy coming from the lunch bag.

The blue eyes that he caught a glimpse of earlier made him remember his old dreams of flying in the air. He remembered his childhood of playing war games and bombing terrorists from above with a flying bomber plane. Ares could easily mistake the shade of his eyes as the sky and he would not even correct himself. The boy might as well be the sun _and_ sky with his bright hair and sky-blue eyes.

"We brought you food, boss," the same voice said. Ares took the bag hesitantly and furrowed his brows, wondering where and when the newbie did caught the idea of bringing food. "I think you'll like something spicy, so I fixed you a meal."

Ares scrutinized the boy, scrunching up his nose when he noticed that he looked so thin. "What kind of food do you even feed yourself, kid?"

He looked lean, and he had a very pretty face, like a girl. His stance was carefree, but he had a light trail of muscles in his arms that Ares could barely make out. His sleeveless jacket covered his torso completely, so he could barely see his torso. The kid was wearing skinny jeans, though, and it showed a decent, long pair of legs that would probably hold him for three hours of running. Now, if the kid had the necessary stamina for the run and little fatigue, he would be a perfect messenger or an assassin. He could be another sniper like Artemis though.

The boy—_how old is he?—_blinked at him and pursed his mouth. "I don't, um, remember what I eat."

Ares glanced at his shoulder and down to his long arms, wondering what kind of gun the kid could handle. "Have you ever held a pistol?"

To his surprise, the boy blushed furiously. "I—I, um, uh, don't understand?" he squeaked. Ares scowled at his stuttering and Artemis laughed at him.

"He meant a _real_ gun, Apollo," Artemis said, snickering. "Maybe you should be specific about the guns, Ares."

Apollo—_was that his real name?—_laughed nervously. "I guess so, if you mean if I... shot one?"

Ares raised an eyebrow at him and the snickering Artemis. "Are the two of you related, somehow?"

"He's my older twin brother."

Ares could barely hide the shock from his face and voice. "Are you lying to me, Artemis? This kid barely looks older than you!"

Artemis' grin turned wider. Ares noticed how she changed from cranky to a laughing lunatic. "Apollo takes from mom's genes."

Apollo's mouth twitched. "I am eighteen, and I do look my age," Apollo informed, erasing the blush from his face. The kid threw a scowl at Artemis and frowned.

Ares rubbed his temples at the revelation. "You were _too underage _to be an agent," he muttered, glaring at Artemis. She had been his second-in-command for three years, meaning she was just a fifteen-year-old girl back then instead of a legal eighteen.

Artemis' small, smug smile did not vanish. "I'm sure you can make exceptions, boss. I do _look_ like a woman, after all."

Ares turned to Apollo and glared. "You look too pretty to be a man, kid."

Apollo flushed red and looked down. "I'm sorry, boss. My sister said she wanted me here."

"Stop calling me boss—damn it, I need—"

Apollo handed him a small pouch. Ares stared at the pouch in his hand and opened it out of curiosity, finding four pills of aspirin. He grabbed two of it and popped it inside his mouth, choosing not to be surprised. Apollo handed him a water bottle—_where did he fucking get that?—_and he took a mouthful to swallow with the pills.

Artemis stood smugly beside the kid. "So, what do you think? Can you accept him?"

Ares scowled. "What is this place, a boy scout facility?"

Apollo giggled. He damn as hell _giggled_. It sounded so pretty, except he was a boy. Artemis threw the kid a scowl and muttered under her breath, "Damn weird guessing ass."

Apollo gave her a look and said, "I told you so."

"Well, actually, I trained with him," Artemis said, wearing an evil smile on her face. Apollo looked confused. "He's in par with me, Ares, and that should count!"

Ares scowled, but thought about it. Artemis was one of his best fighters, and she was one hell of a sniper. She never lost to anyone, and she defeated everyone who thought she was too much a girl to fight or win. To find someone that could not even defeat her would be impossible.

Ares glanced at the kid and scowled. Okay, so maybe it was close to possible.

"If you can spar with him right now—"

Apollo shrugged his shoulders and dropped down when Artemis swung a swift fist towards his head. The womanly girl threw a series of assaults that usually brought down her previous foes down, but Apollo held himself with a smile as he evaded her. Artemis wore a scowl and changed tactics, upping the level of her fighting skills to something fatal. Apollo grasped her by the ankle when he ducked and pulled, making Artemis fall on the ground harshly.

Ares felt his mouth turn up slightly when the woman let out a series of curses as she stood to regain her attacks, but Apollo cut her off with his own. He was faster and much more graceful than her techniques, moving with a familiar ease as he took himself to overwhelm Artemis with calm in his eyes. His movements were different, and Ares discovered that he did not know the techniques he unfolded—and _he_ already mastered every fighting style he knew.

The pattern did not last as Apollo jumped—_he jumped_—right over Artemis, and she was standing—and held the womanly girl by the head, tilting his swiftly to a very dangerous angle and simply stood there.

Artemis' gasp of surprise proved that their fight was something real and not rehearsed. The kid glowed with a kind of light around him as he smiled. He let go of her head and approached a first aid kit from the floor. He stole a bandage from the pile inside and walked back over to his sister, tending to her bruised ankle.

"Did you break something?"

Apollo blushed as he whipped his head to look at him. "I, uh, didn't break anything, unless you mean one of her earrings, but nothing in her body. I think I sprained her ankle and she hit the ground hard."

Ares felt tolerable to his stuttering. The fight amazed him, and Apollo did not once disappoint him. "Did she land a hit on you?"

"I..." he stammered, blinking rapidly. The blush disappeared completely. "Well, she hit my hair, but I don't think you mean anything that won't hurt me."

Artemis still looked smug despite getting her ass handed to her by her own brother. "He's much more experienced now, though."

Apollo sputtered and blushed at her words, covering his face with his hands when Ares chuckled slightly at the sight. The boy had some amazing skills, which he could tell brought him there. Since Artemis left, she always complained at his being mean to subordinates. She always sent him neophyte fighters, but they always failed to amuse and amaze him.

"Is this some kind of last resort?" he said aloud, scoffing.

"Apollo is amazing," Artemis agreed, looking satisfied. "He's a great fighter, and he can cook up some delicious meal. You can place him anywhere. He's practically housewife material, but don't mind that."

Apollo blushed even redder at her words. "You're _exaggerating!_"

"That's the same thing you said before you've beaten up all your bullies back at home, you know."

Ares chuckled, making them look to stare at him. "I'll post him in the canteen last. I do _not_ want anyone to know he cooks well. He is a bright kid, Artemis. Apollo's thoughtful, perhaps attentive and alert."

Apollo threw him a small smile and said, "Thank you."

Ares grew more amused. "You better be aware that I rarely give out compliments to anyone. You're practically an expert assassin in disguise."

Artemis burst out laughing. Apollo's smile slightly widened, but then the blush returned slowly as Artemis continued her chortles. "Sorry—it's just I remember you say that _I_ was some kind of expert fighter in disguise before, too. I remember you immediately promoted me when I kicked your second-in-command to kingdom come for insulting me."

Ares' lip twitched at the memory. "Well he couldn't hold his ground properly, so what else can break the ice by making you the next second-in-command? Besides that, the asshole kept on bitching about a pay raise while you just complained about the paperwork."

Apollo's smile turned softer and his eyes much more gentle. Ares saw the older brother that Artemis saw in the boy. He suddenly looked thoughtful.

"What is it, kid?"

"Oh," he started softly. The softer quality of his voice startled Ares. "It's just that you did not even think that a woman being your second-in-command before would put your reputation to shame. You treat everyone equally when deserved, and when achieved it fairly. You are an amazing boss like I guessed."

"Of course I didn't mind Artemis," Ares said, nodding at the boy. "She kicked their asses fair and square, especially since everyone challenged her."

"Apollo's always accurate when it comes to guessing, but he seldom does it anymore," Artemis commented, patting her own long brown hair. Apollo's face turned gloomy and wilted. "He's good at it so much that he could make prophesies, like the one he gave me. He said I would be a second-in-command. I didn't understand what it meant until five years later."

Ares nodded. He noticed that the boy brought things that he guessed that his new boss would need. "Well, that's an awesome talent for a kid," he said instead.

Apollo looked very much wilted when Artemis mentioned his talent, but then he turned to look at him in confusion.

"Don't you want me to read you?"

"Nah," Ares said, waving the idea off, "I quite like surprises in my life. I'd rather not know what happens in it unless you tell me by yourself."

Artemis once again looked smug, but Apollo smiled slightly. "I think my brother will be in good hands."

Apollo blushed. "Sorry, boss, but I just guess that you're going to kick her out after she said that."

Ares smirked, and the kid blushed even more. "Oh, however did you guess?" he questioned mockingly. "Get out of the vicinity, Artemis. You will regret leaving me your secret brother. I think I'll try not to mention you will lose an amazing cook."

Artemis rolled her eyes, but her smile did not vanish. "I'll try not to mention that he's going to need specific orders. By the way, Apollo needs frequent supervision. I'll leave out that I have to worship your altar for accepting my older brother."

She sauntered out of the premises, leaving the two of them standing in the lobby. Apollo seemed nervous without his sister. He kept on looking at the ground and anywhere else but Ares' eyes.

"Stand still and stop that nervousness," Ares ordered calmly, watching as Apollo stood straight and blushed. "I'm not going to bite after your sister disappeared, you know. She's like a pecking mother hen, but she's like a sister to me, too."

"I, um, am not a people person," Apollo stammered. "I don't know what to say to make them, uh, like me or something. I turn out to be a know-it-all to them."

"I've never thought of things like that before." Ares scoffed. "You can tell me anything you want, I don't really care. Hell, you can tell me how I will be such a pathetic boss, but I will not care. But that's not only because you're connected to your sister, and because you're my new Lieutenant General, but because you've proven yourself."

Apollo's eyes were wide. "Boss, Artemis did not mention that I'm applying for that position."

"You're a good kid, Apollo, and you're too insecure for your own good. Try to fix that, and we'll get along like long-lost half-brothers, not awkward long-lost half-brothers."

"Thank you," Apollo said, smiling up at him. He stood taller, and his head reached just the crook of Ares' neck.

"Now, let's see if _I_ guessed right about you an amazing cook." Ares headed back to the stairs, but then he remembered Apollo. Could the boy even handle the stairs? Damn, now he was thinking like a wimp—he just saw the boy beat his previous second-in-command.

Alternatively, maybe he could hide Apollo's strength and make everyone take him for granted. It would cause the boy some insecurity, but when he defeats them, he would probably brighten up some. Apollo needed a push to become more confident.

He turned back and blinked as the boy adjusted the first-aid kit bag and placed the water bottle at the side pocket of the bag. "Let me guess—we're taking the elevator?"

Apollo's mouth twitched into a small smile. "We can take the stairs if you want, boss."

Ares smirked. "Now, don't do that. I _know_ we're going to take the elevator."

* * *

><p>Now, if you like the sound of more Ares and Apollo, review, "<strong>War god and sun god needs to have an assignment together! All review Hold Your Position!<strong>" If you hate it, you can tell me in a pm.

If you absolutely want to see an awesome Hades and Percy, in another fanfic, review, "**I wanna see Death on Sea!**"

If you want Hephaestus being more awesome than any other _straight_ god, in another fanfic, review, "**I want to see Hephaestus turn good-looking for no reason!**"

If you want Ares to stop being OOC, actually, you can tell me if you like Ares calm, or irritable, but I have two more chapters to redit... Not that I'm forcing him to go OOC...


	2. A Chef

**Title:** Hold Your Position  
><strong>Rate:<strong> T  
><strong>Genre:<strong> Romance, Slash, Humor  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Apollo needs a timeout. He felt utterly destroyed one time, and no one knows why. Really, it's not because he's sick or something. He just really misses his mom. (Not the real Summary)  
><strong>Warning:<strong> Innuendos and an odd, OOCed Ares because of a potion. Hints of slash(gayness to be blunt), cursing, and very disturbing gods having an OOC streak... sometimes. **Criticism** and **flames **are allowed.

**Prompt: **Apollo hearing perverted things when Ares orders him around.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything... not at all. Well, you would not even be reading this if you do _not _know, right? I don't own _anything_. Not at all. You can contact my secretary and writer.

***READ AUTHOR'S NOTE BELOW***

* * *

><p><strong>Hold Your Position<strong>

_**Ares**_

Ares agreed to himself that the boy should feel at home, just because he looked like he was about to cry by the way his elite supervisors stared him down. He slowed down his pace and the kid hesitantly matched his pace. He obviously wanted to reach the canteen immediately.

Ares stopped completely right in the middle of the hall, watching as Apollo stopped, too, and trembled as he waited for him to continue. He even reached out a hand to hold on to him but dropped it at his side when one particular supervisor sneered.

"Don't hesitate," Ares ordered. Apollo swallowed and nodded, reaching out to grab the back of his shirt. "Better?"

Apollo nodded slightly and wiped his eyes with his other hand. "Thanks," he muttered softly.

_Damn, what kind of life did this kid have to make him so insecure and afraid?_ "We're going to work on that, too."

Ares continued his walk, glaring at anyone who dared to look at him weirdly. Apollo matched his pace, watching him curiously. Ares could feel his eyes probing his stance, his walk and everything he did. The boy was observing everything, and he sometimes copied his confident walk.

In a matter of minutes, Apollo was walking straight, his eyes were looking straight and he looked like he belonged right there beside him, with a hand clutched at the back of Ares' shirt.

"How old do you think I look?" Ares questioned.

"You're twenty-seven right now," Apollo answered, blinking. "Oh, I guessed again." He sounded guilty, and even sad.

"Well, you're right anyway," Ares muttered, making sure no one heard him. Nobody knew his human age, and his subordinates always thought he was some kind of intimidating superior. "Keep that to yourself, alright? You're the only one who I'll allow to know that information."

Apollo nodded and smiled at him.

"What's the name of my mother?"

"Hera," Apollo answered, furrowing his brows. "Did I get that wrong? I don't usually guess things like that one."

"You're right again, kid." Ares chuckled quietly and glanced at him. "Do you feel confident now?"

Apollo blushed and looked down. "I, um, thank you. I didn't even guess that you were training my confidence."

"Well, I would have never guessed that my mother's name is Hera. That's her real name, by the way."

"My mother's name is Leto," Apollo admitted. "Her second name is Latona. My father's name is Zeus."

Ares smirked but said nothing. Apollo and he had the same name for their father.

Ares' second name was Mars, but no one ever guessed that. The interrogation was fun because he could go as the god of war.

"Mars," Apollo murmured under his breath. He blushed and straightened up, saying, "I'm sorry."

Ares shrugged. His name and age did not even matter to him. So long as he always became victorious in sieges and wars, he was content. "You can keep that, too, since they always never guessed it right. Do I look like a Jason to you? Seriously, one was Perseus."

Apollo giggled—or maybe it was a laugh, but he could never tell with the boy. He always sounded so girly, but he was all right. Ares felt like he was dreaming when he giggle-laughed. It sounded so pretty, so... delighted. It was as if he was in a large field, a meadow, and there was only peace. Apollo had a peaceful laugh, something calming. It would surely brighten up the agency.

They reached the canteen in no time, Apollo walking calmly beside him while trying to avoid their looks. Ares knew a few of his people lounged in the canteen, but not _this_ much. The canteen brimmed with people, as if the canteen was serving food. People were throwing glances at Apollo, and sometimes they stared too much. Apollo tried hard to ignore them, but he started getting nervous again.

He was gripping the back of Ares' shirt like crazy, and Ares was starting to wonder if his nails would leave holes after. He almost laughed at the thought but shook his head. He grasped the boy's wrist and the hand reluctantly left his shirt alone.

"Hold my wrist and check if your fingers left holes in my shirt," Ares ordered, watching as Apollo did as he said. He was gripping his wrist as if his limb was the only thing that grounded him in reality. He even actually checked if his nails left holes in his shirt.

Ares found his reserved table and placed the lunch bag there, making sure to direct Apollo to sit at the other side. The boy stiffened in his seat, and his eyes were wide as he stared at Ares with panic.

"Calm down," Ares murmured, opening the lunch bag. The boy nodded furiously and clasped his shaking hands together tightly over the table. Ares sighed. "Stop shaking, too."

Apollo's eyes watered, but he stopped shaking. "I'm sorry, boss." He wiped his tears away and started a deep-breathing technique to calm him down.

Ares nodded. He knew Artemis for a very long time, and he was thankful that she taught his brother deep breathing. Ares could not ever calm anyone unless he had to fight them first. Apollo seemed like he would wilt before he could even fight him. He did not mind that he was a _very_ good guesser, as he was the God of war himself.

"Did Artemis hand you the file?" Ares asked as he pulled out the lunch box. He popped the lid open and found chili beef stew steaming on his face, as well as a side of rice. It smelled delicious as it looked, and now he only had to taste it.

"Yes, she made sure I had it," Apollo murmured, pulling out a folder from the first-aid kit. He brushed back his fringes and nodded. "It's all in there, everything. She wrote it though, so I can only guess—" Apollo grimaced "—whatever nonsense she wrote."

Ares found the silverware utensils by then. "You'll stay honest with me, alright?"

Apollo blushed red. "I, uh, will. I mean, uh, boss."

Ares flashed him a smirk. "So, now why don't you guess who I really stand for?"

"Okay," Apollo breathed, closing his eyes. Almost immediately, his eyes snapped open with disbelief. He was _that_ fast in guessing he was the god of war. "Are you—I mean should I—?"

"Nah," Ares waved him off, taking a bite from his dinner meal. He hummed and closed his eyes, savoring the spicy taste in his mouth before he chewed slowly and swallowed. "Should I say that you guess what I'll say, or should I tell you?"

Apollo grinned slightly. "I don't like guessing much, boss."

"Well, this is something we should discuss in private, Apollo," Ares said, smirking when he noticed a few ears turn back where they were needed. He already noticed that the canteen focused on them solely, and he knew a lot of them were listening into their conversation. Maybe he should never mention that Apollo was his new second-in-command.

"Geez, what a kiss-ass," someone from the crowd muttered.

Ares' sharp ears picked it up and he scowled. He glanced at Apollo and saw that he slowly drained of confidence. He probably heard what he did, so he looked so sad and scared. The boy's hands were clasped together again, stark white.

Ares figured he should initiate contact this time, and grabbed one of the boy's hands with his unoccupied hand. His other hand handled the silverware expertly as he ate, ignoring the looks of disbelief that he gain. He usually arranged paper with his other hand when he was eating, so he did not mind.

Slowly, the boy flushed red at the contact and gripped his hand. "Sorry," he apologized, looking ashamedly down on his lap. "I get really panicky when that happens."

Ares hummed and continued eating, staying alert. He finished his meal in a few minutes. He took the tissue from the lunch bag that he saw earlier and wiped his mouth, throwing it accurately at the trashcan. He placed the silverware back to its case and fixed up immediately with only one hand.

The blushing boy opened and handed him the water bottle. Ares nodded his thanks, taking the water bottle and taking a few gulps before he let the boy cap it shut. He licked his lips and blinked.

"I think you know what I'm going to say, but I'll still say it. Thank you for the food," Ares murmured, watching as the boy sat straight with a newly regained confidence.

"It wasn't that good, though, since it's like cheating. I knew what to throw in, and what you would appreciate eating."

"I bet you guessed that I ate with one hand and one utensil, huh?" Ares said, taking the file from the boy when he handed it to him with his other hand. Ares opened the file with his unoccupied hand and read the file, skimming. He glanced up and saw the boy looking at him curiously. "Well, don't correct me if it's wrong or a lie, alright? You can keep that to yourself if you don't want to share it."

"Yes, boss." Apollo flushed red and looked down.

"It says here that Artemis personally trained with you, and that you're eighteen. She wrote that you have several _amazing skills that the boss will not mind at all_." Ares stole a glance at the boy and saw that he wore an angry smile.

"That girl, I swear she wants me dead," Apollo grumbled.

"I think we should continue this in the office," Ares murmured, pulling him up as he stood. Their hands innocently clasped together tightly, Apollo still gripping his hand to death. "We'll work on that, so you'll be used to it. Someone might challenge you if not for my presence though." He murmured the words quietly near the boy.

Apollo nodded obediently. "Yes, boss."

Ares took the strap of the lunch bag and flipped it over his shoulder so the bag hanged from his side. They walked out of the canteen hand-in-hand, Ares trying to calm him every now and then when a few of his supervisors burned Apollo with their stares.

"Ares," Apollo murmured quietly under his breath. Ares felt oddly pleased at the way he said his name.

"You finally guessed I don't like second-in-commands calling me boss?" He made sure they were out of hearing range, and he said it quietly.

"No," Apollo stuttered, blushing. "I, um, just wanted to thank you for helping my stupid panic attacks calm down. And, I, um, wanted you to know that some of your subordinates think you're batting for the other team."

"Is that a way of thinking that I'm a spy?" Ares muttered, amused. "I'm not a traitor though."

Apollo blushed very red and muttered, "I mean, they think I'm turning you into a girly guy?"

Ares' mouth twitched. "Let them thank their luck that they keep it in their minds, Apollo. Otherwise I would've introduced their faces to cheese graters thoroughly."

Apollo scrunched up his nose cutely—_wait, what?_—and smiled. "Well, some of them are whispering right behind you, about how you're going to turn into a fairy and shoot them with pixie dust."

Ares let go of his hand and turned around abruptly.

"Now," he growled lowly, "if you guys don't shut your fucking traps about me being a fairy, I'm going to make my pistol shoot freaking pixie dust through your brains and I'll make sure your heads are hung on the front of my fucking door!"

People scrambled out of the way when he pulled out his pistol, aiming it at a random subordinate. He pulled the hammer and the subordinate fainted even before he pulled the trigger, falling to the ground harshly. _Who is the fucking fairy now?_

"Pick that asshole from the ground, you dimwits!" he snarled. He pulled the trigger and not even a bullet passed from his barrel. "Idiots," he muttered, tucking the pistol back behind him.

He turned around to see a very amused Apollo staring at him with awe. He raised an eyebrow at his expression and smirked. "Amazed, kid?"

"That was amazing," the boy murmured. He beamed at him and the hallway seemed to light up with his smile. "Can you teach me that? I can live without the cursing."

"Seeing as you _are_ my student now, you're going to need your wits in keeping that confidence locked there." Ares took his hand unthinkingly and dragged him to the elevator.

* * *

><p>Ares pulled the boy in his office and let his hand go, turning to see the boy blushing bright red. "Although I don't want you to force yourself, can you check if anyone is listening or anything inside this office is used by someone else for spying?" Ares made sure to keep it quiet.<p>

Apollo nodded. "There's one microphone under your desk," Apollo whispered, "And there's something, like a hidden camera, at the plants."

Ares successfully found the two devices and destroyed them. "You don't need to tell me who did this, just as long as they know that we've discovered their seeds."

Apollo flushed even a brighter shade of red. "Thank you."

"Just call me Ares," he suggested. _You need to have more confidence and spirit, kid._

"Thank you, Ares."

They both stayed in a stunned silence, Ares awkwardly willing the blood in his face to go away while Apollo placed his already blushing face in his hands. He did not even think of how Apollo would say his name in that same tone and softness that he used. It completely passed his mind that the boy would thank him sincerely, mentioning his name much more gently. It made his face feel warm, and he did not even know why.

"Well, then, I need you to check what your sister wrote." Ares handed him the folder that he skimmed and Apollo took it shyly, biting his lip as he did. "You can keep what you want to keep, and that's the thing I will trust you with. I don't think I should warn you though, since you already know what regulations I gave Artemis."

Apollo nodded and opened the folder, reading his file. At some lines, he frowned and gave a shake of his head, but at the lines that he deemed correct, he nodded gently. Apollo closed the file and looked up at him with his shimmering blue eyes.

"Someone will have a surprise visit for you tomorrow and aggravate you."

Ares' lip twitched into a smile. "And now, you're like my own personal secretary. Well, now that you say that, the only one who gives me surprise visits is..." He grimaced. "It's that woman, Aphrodite."

Apollo nodded and looked down. Ares blinked at his insecure action and smiled slightly. "Don't worry, she won't throw herself at you... much. I'll make sure to protect you or something."

The boy blushed again and groaned, covering his face with his two hands. Ares mused, as even Apollo's ears were red as his face. When the blush subsided, the boy looked up hesitantly and blushed once more. "I'm... trying not to guess that she'll jump you in front of me."

Ares laughed, unable to stop himself. "That woman may spare me if I asked... probably. That does sounds like her. Maybe you should protect me instead?"

Apollo sniffed. "But you're practically more strategic—" Apollo's eyes widened with excitement. "Ares—?" he called hesitantly.

Ares was curious. "What is it?"

"Can I plant... traps for you?"

Ares' eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You're going to make traps... for Aphrodite?"

Apollo bit his lip and looked up from his fringes shyly. "Can I? I mean, Artemis never appreciated that impulse of mine."

Ares thought about his suggestion and chuckled. Aphrodite would be livid, perhaps, if Apollo's traps were well made. "Well, that will be a first. Where do you want to plant these mines of yours?"

Apollo's blue eyes glittered with an idea. "Can I trap the other subordinates who insulted us earlier?"

"As long as you battle them fairly afterward," Ares conceded, smirking. Apollo nodded eagerly, accepting his command. "Well, now let's discuss this amazing trap maze of yours. Where do you need it and what materials do you need?"

Apollo gave him an evil smile. "Do you want her to be livid, annoyed or frustrated?"

Ares chuckled and ruffled his hair. "You're amusing me. What happens if we put together all the three of them?"

Apollo blushed and whispered his plan.

* * *

><p>Now, if you like the sound of more Ares and Apollo, review, "<strong>War god and sun god needs to have an assignment together! All review Hold Your Position!<strong>" If you hate it, you can tell me in a pm.

If you absolutely want to see an awesome Hades and Percy, in another fanfic, review, "**I wanna see Death on Sea!**"

If you want Hephaestus being more awesome than any other _straight_ god, in another fanfic, review, "**I want to see Hephaestus turn good-looking for no reason!**"

If you want Ares to stop being OOC, actually, you can tell me if you like Ares calm, or irritable, but I have two more chapters to redit... Not that I'm forcing him to go OOC...

P.S.: Ares is thinking _very_ innocently.

P.P.S.: **REVIEW BUTTON WORKS FOR ANONYMOUS PEOPLE** :D!


	3. His Boss, So Patient

**Title:** Hold Your Position  
><strong>Rate:<strong> T  
><strong>Genre:<strong> Romance, Slash, Humor  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Apollo needs a timeout. He felt utterly destroyed one time, and no one knows why. Really, it's not because he's sick or something. He just really misses his mom. (Not the real Summary)  
><strong>Warning:<strong> Innuendos and an odd, OOCed Ares because of a potion. Hints of slash(gayness to be blunt), cursing, and very disturbing gods having an OOC streak... sometimes. **Criticism** and **flames **are allowed.

**Prompt: **Apollo hearing perverted things when Ares orders him around.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything... not at all. Well, you would not even be reading this if you do _not _know, right? I don't own _anything_. Not at all. You can contact my secretary and writer.

* * *

><p><strong>Hold Your Position<strong>

_**Apollo**_

_**Se**__**ven **__**m**__**onths **__**e**__**ar**__**li**__**e**__**r, **__**S**__**ummit of Delphi…**_

"Apollo, I know you're in there!" Artemis yelled through the door. Apollo shivered slightly as he realized that she truly found him, what she said not a bluff.

Apollo curled into himself on the red bed, his mind shut off without any kind of inspiration blooming through his empty thoughts. He felt scared that not even one inventive image came to jolt him. His mind, which usually and always brimmed with brilliant ideas, became a blank void while he was writing three months ago. In those three months, he tried and failed to search for his inspiration.

A short argument with the genius Athena while trying to find his ideas stabbed his confidence. She bragged that she was smarter and much more inventive than Apollo. He was about to smite her, but then the levity of the situation came crashing down on him. He could no longer take her little and petty insults, so he fled. He at least made sure that the sun was on autopilot before he left.

Apollo realized that even trying to meditate blocked any kind of inspiration. It felt utterly empty in his mind. The only thing that still worked was his knowledge of medicine and his inevitable prophetic guessing. He doubted he could curse anyone in a poem, or create another mind-blowing prophesy through his genuine poems. And he still sucked at weaving haikus.

Without any kind of proof that he was still himself, the sun god locked himself in his hidden room in Delphi. Not one of the gods or goddesses had the knowledge of his hideout in their minds. Nobody knew of the place created by his worshipers inside the temple. He rarely visited the place, except for now as he made it his deathbed.

During those painful months, seeking for the answer to his deprived mind, his body started to fade. Once he saw it happening, he hid himself away from Olympus. He resigned to his fate, as he lost his will to live. The sun god counted the seconds, the hours of his stay. He counted the times he had seen his light blink in and out of existence. He counted the insults and challenges he received during his earlier days, the memories of his glorious days anything but a happy memory. Not even the memories of helping wars and sieges urged his mind back.

A slam on the door brought him back out of his reverie, breaking his painful thoughts as his face dried of tears flattened out with apathy. The door burst out of its hinges, but he stayed where he was, mindful of the footsteps that his little sister made.

"Oh, my gods," she gasped from behind him. "Apollo!" she whispered loudly with panic lacing her tone. Artemis crawled on the bed with him, placing hand on his shoulder. "Apollo, what's happening to you?"

He felt Artemis turn him towards her, scrutinizing his translucent body with a look of utter fear. Her hands shook with nervousness as he assessed her indifferently, choosing not to answer her. Did she not see that he was fading? He was only a few more months away from disappearing.

"We have to get you out of here," Artemis murmured, seemingly understanding his silence. "Don't go just yet, big bro." She wiped a tear from her face and her eyes shimmered with worry.

Apollo shook his head. "Don't even try," he muttered weakly, his voice hoarse. "I already tried."

Artemis shook her head and said, "We'll try harder!" Her voice trembled as she said it. Apollo doubted that anything they would try would work. "Come on, Apollo, don't fade…"

Apollo offered her a sad smile. "I can't," he murmured. He felt very cold. He knew Artemis already noticed it, though.

"What do you want?" she asked softly. "What can make you glow again? Apollo, you know we _need_ you."

"I don't know," he replied, voice unsure. "I tried everything, Artemis. Nothing brings me back."

"I'll try to find something," she said fiercely, sniffling as she wiped her tears furiously. "I don't want you gone!"

Apollo looked away from her tearful face, unable to keep himself feeling worried. He could feel nothing for her. He felt absolutely empty. "Do not tell anyone where I am to hide, though."

She nodded eagerly, her face red. "We can go to the Olympian Army."

Something in her tone made him agree. There, inside him, it sparked a curiosity. It was small, the hope he felt.

"_The Delphi_ is my domain, Artemis." The Olympian Army, a spying game for the gods touched by boredom, seemed like a slightly good idea. It aroused something inside him that he never felt during the previous months.

"You have to practice your prophesies though," Artemis begged, shaking him slightly. "The Olympian Army's _The Chariot_ will have to do without me, but I want you to practice it, alright?"

She convinced him. "Alright," he agreed, slipping his eyes close as he felt his soul stirring with a familiar sense of ease. _Where did you come from, warlord?_ The thought slipped innocently in his mind, but he deemed it the stirrings of his inspiration.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Now, at "The Chariot"<strong>_

Apollo liked his new boss. Ares was some legendary short-tempered warlord and a magnificent boss, according to Artemis and his guess. How he actually tolerated his stuttering and shy actions, it was—well, for innocent reasons. Ares seemed to care for him like a little brother, and he already proved himself earlier, deeming his first impression a perfect Lieutenant General for the warlord.

Ares made his room connected to his office, where he worked all night as Apollo tried to fight off the dreams that made him hard. The war god thought that he should be close when he needed him and vice versa. The room also connected to a kitchen where a large window presented him the perfect view of the back of the base where he could easily shoot anyone who moved to the area to harm. He liked his place perfectly fine, especially the large bathroom. The interior had white tiles and anything used as a handle or edge was gold.

Setting the traps to humiliate the goddess of love made him feel better. Although the gods still search for him, they forgot his image that even Aphrodite mistook him as his little sister that one time... He added superglue and feathers, adding glitters that Ares picked up from a fainted subordinate when he threatened the girl. To say Apollo was amused would be an understatement. Ares—_oh, war god—_was both amazing and awesome. He was hot, too, but he surely did not want to mention his new boss about that.

_You are not supposed to feel like that for him_, he scolded himself. His body, on the other hand, had other reasons as it tingled with anticipation.

It felt like sweet revenge to have Aphrodite shrieking and outraged. Ares seemed not to care about his plan and wanted some entertainment. He probably did not like Aphrodite like that—oh, he guessed again. He smiled and pulled the last invisible string, thanking Hermes inwardly for teaching him to prank. He never really admitted to the messenger god of his true character. Hermes only knew him as a human friend.

Perhaps he should try to be merciful when Aphrodite wanted his help later on to find a mysterious—he really should stop guessing.

"Are you done there, kid?"

His voice was deep, _sexy_. It was something that Apollo never realized delighted him. Ares stood near the doorway, raising a glass of coffee to his lips. The action and his call made Apollo blush. _How can he look so awesome by just standing there? Percy said the god of war usually released a kind of I-hate-you-and-you-hate-me pheromone!_

Percy was a young demigod who tried to search for him, too. When Apollo and Percy were younger—him in his physique—they became best of friends. They teamed up against Zeus one time in order to make Hades one of the Olympians. It only took them a week of whining, even going as far to force Hades to use a younger child form and bring him along while they begged Hera to make Zeus agree to their demand. He never saw Hera look so conflicted at the adorable child, the Underworld god in his younger persona, as she hesitantly agreed. Hades, after all, was a very loyal person.

After his throne was created in Olympus, Hades still stayed in the Underworld. He _is_ the King of the Underworld, and it meant that he should watch over his kingdom than attend silly meetings. Zeus did not mind it. He even agreed that he should watch over his kingdom of death. Apollo saw the fear in Zeus' eyes when he caught a glimpse of Hera as she stared at the Underworld god with a motherly affection in her eyes. Least to say, Zeus probably did not want Hera to team up with Hades against him.

When he saw Ares raising a questioning look at him, Apollo sensed the warlord's patience wavering. He cleared his throat and said, "I'm done." He was successfully keeping his stutter in check. He reviewed the plan in his head and nodded, throwing the last of his list in his pocket.

Ares appeared to be musing over his decision on giving him. "Are you going to take responsibility?"

_Am I going to what—?_ Apollo tried not to blush, but he failed. The warlord thought innocently as he said those words. "I'll be held responsible."

He knew Ares was impatient, but the warlord held himself remarkably well. He was greatly impressed by the control he had over his emotions. It could probably be the cause of that potion that Artemis made Hermes slip inside his coffee. Apollo would try to avoid the conflict that would happen if Ares found out about the slip.

"Good. Now, your war is not my war, but make sure to tell me when you do want to have war. This impulse—pranks of yours, will be out when you have another war with anyone. Next time, I want you to face your enemy, not like this."

Apollo nodded eagerly, wanting to gain Ares' acceptance. The god of war gave him a ghost of a smile before it vanished completely as he took another sip of his coffee. Apollo suddenly felt the click in his mind and hummed thoughtfully. Ares brought out the best prophetic talents out of him.

"Get inside," Apollo instructed, head snapping at the elevator. He could tell that Aphrodite would arrive and fall into his trap all accordingly.

Ares shrugged his urgent tone away as if it did not even affect him and went in his office. Apollo smiled and stood there, silently thanking the war god that he did not mind his tone. He was constantly on the urge of panicking when he snapped at people, but when Ares simply shrugged it off... _He is amazingly patient unlike what Percy told me._

Aphrodite glided out of the elevator, looking as beautiful and prepared as ever. Apollo greeted her shyly, and the love goddess gasped at him.

"Artemis!" she greeted. Apollo frowned at her when she gave him a short hug. She pulled away and scrunched up her nose as she stared at his clothes. "What in the Hades are you wearing? Those clothes are _so_ far away from what you wore before when we were modeling! Are you lesbian now?"

Apollo's mouth twitched. "I'm..."

"Oh, yes, right." She smiled and Apollo resisted the urge to stick his tongue out. "Have you seen my boyfriend, Artemis? I can't seem to find him," she sang, winking.

Apollo pointed at the office and hid a grin when she glided and tripped on the wire. _This is payback for changing my clothes without permission._

From the walls, a tiny cannon pointed at her and shot superglue, straight at her hair and to her clothes. She shrieked in surprise and stumbled forward, setting the other trap on. A mass of glittered feathers fell from the hole in the ceiling, along with the chicken blood that her dress and hair sucked in so much, that it did not touch the floor.

Apollo snickered inwardly, cheering himself for a job well-done. He had to say that the prank was not so much creative all, though. It was something that Hermes did with one of the other gods for Hephaestus TV.

The furious Aphrodite, now the seemingly goddess of superglue and glittering bloody feathers, staggered to the door, gasping. She slammed the office door open and cursed something in French that Apollo would rather not mention to Ares later.

"If this is the way you are trying to tell me that we're breaking up, Ares, then you could have just said so!" She shouted curses inside and Apollo guessed that Ares was greatly amused and pleased, though he did not expect the chicken blood. It was lucky she did not let a drop fall onto the white floors of Ares' office. Apollo was sure the warlord would order him to clean it with a toothbrush.

Apollo smiled and walked over the other traps, wearing a look of worry as he entered the room. "Boss, a Mister Hephaestus is demanding an appointment. He called and said to tell you that the live television did not please him, as his wonderful wife turned into a clown. Should I have set the trap the next day—?" He tried to look terrified, and in Ares' case, he guessed he looked convincing if the war god was frowning.

Aphrodite threw him a look of disbelief. "What did you just say, Artemis?"

"I'm sorry. I should have figured you will arrive today, ma'am—"

Aphrodite blinked rapidly. "Artemis, you mentioned that Hephaestus called me 'wonderful'!" she cried out incredulously.

Apollo blinked innocently up at her, saying, "Ah, well, Mister Hephaestus dislikes that you did not turn special for this episode, he mentioned." _You probably did not look too much like a fool this time._

Aphrodite seemed to remember herself as she beamed and she snapped her fingers. Her outfit changed magically and her whole visage turned perfect. She was wearing another stylish dress that made Apollo thank himself that he turned immune to her. Aphrodite never became his type, after all. She turned to give Ares a glare before she turned to Apollo with a brightened smile.

"I have to go. Moreover, Artemis, dear, please do something about that chronic sore throat of yours as—although it _is_ a handsome sound, and it sounds so soft and beautiful—it does not fit a lady. You should ditch that dreadful attire of yours."

"No—wait," Apollo started, but it was too late. Aphrodite already snapped her fingers and he shut his eyes as her powers worked over his attire, and hopefully not his face.

The love god glided through another set of traps but did not react as she just simply changed her attire once she reached the elevators. Apollo dreaded looking at himself, wondering what kind of girly clothes she let him wear. He grimaced and turned to the war god, finding him staring at him with bemusement.

"Is it awful?" he asked weakly, dreading the clothes he wore immediately. He could feel his face turn red with embarrassment. He was not supposed to ask that. "No, don't answer that."

"You look cool," answered Ares, raising an eyebrow at him. "A little more than cool—you look _hot_, in the terms of women falling on their knees."

Apollo blushed at his wording and looked down unthinkingly. He sucked in a sharp breath as he saw his body sporting a double-breasted trench coat, only it was still up to his neck like his jacket and sleeveless. He almost gaped out right when he noticed that his boots—his _leather_ boots sported heels. Did Aphrodite's fashion magazines include one leather arm-length fingerless glove? He had it on his left arm, and the right arm sported something longer that reached his upper arms with several straps holding it suspiciously to his inner garments.

"I reckon heels are not in the men's fashion these days," Apollo mumbled pitifully.

"It _does_ look weird," Ares said, furrowing. He looked peeved about the change, too. "She _did_ think you are Artemis, after all. It doesn't look like a woman's heels though—it's thick."

Apollo trembled inside as he imagined himself humiliated for wearing such atrocious attire. He could feel the dread spreading throughout his whole form at the thought.

"I did guess she would change my clothes into something that will gain the females' approval, but not _like this_!" He almost let out a terrified shriek of his own. He unbuttoned the trench coat slightly and groaned at what he saw underneath the shiny material. "I'm going to _torture_ her!"

"What's making you so pissed?"

"She put a leather off-shoulder as my inner clothes!" There, he started to panic. He _could_ guess that he would be humiliated... that is, if he could stop the outcome. The leather gloves connected to the hoops and buckles at the front of the leather clothes.

"What's wrong with that?"

"It's a dress, boss!" he cried out, trying not to wail like a child. He _abhorred_ cross-dressing!

The war god stayed silent and awkwardly hid an amused laugh with a cough. res stood up and approached him, his keen eyes sharply analyzing his outfit. "Does it feel like you have some boxers underneath them or something similar?"

Apollo restrained himself from blushing as he deadpanned, "I have the feeling it's lingerie underneath this dress."

Ares blushed and Apollo hid his face in his hands to hide his own blush. The awkward silence continued until Ares coughed awkwardly.

"I think you should come with me," he said.

Apollo followed him hesitantly as he opened the door to _his_ room. Ares' room also joint with the office, after all. Apollo could easily find him whenever he could fake a nightmare, but he could never tell Ares that.

Ares led him to his room—the interior was a simple dark red and dark brown and the walls were with gold wallpapers. Nothing looked out of place but the spear and shield that leaned on the bookcase—_all books about war, figures_—and the majestic bed. It was _big_, and it looked like it had a soft cushion that Apollo could fall on. He could probably sleep in it properly, too.

"You can find something that will fit you in the closet," Ares said to him as he led him to another door. "The other door inside the closet leads to the bathroom."

Apollo blushed and nodded, avoiding seeing his face. He went inside, admiring the large closet before he picked up a small leather shirt that suspiciously looked similar to the top of the dress. He slid the trench coat off and unbuckled all the straps, sliding the dress off as he exchanged it with the shirt, minding to take off the satin lingerie top. He buckled the straps again and found that it _was_ similar to the dress.

"Aphrodite probably sent him this when he was younger," Apollo murmured to himself quietly.

During his short search, he found a pair of pants—leather. It fit him, and he found that wearing his long-cut boots over them looked cool. Ares would be approving of his outfit. Damn, he guessed again.

He stood at the mirror, not even wondering why he was still not sweating. He _is_ the god of sun, after all. Any kind of heat did not affect him unless... He blushed and shook his head. He pulled the trench coat over his chosen clothes, leaving it open and unbuttoned. _Where can I burn the dress?_

He picked the dress up reluctantly, along with the lingerie he stripped off himself. Although Apollo was gay, it did _not_, and certainly _not_, meant that he wore girly clothes. He always went hunting girls with Hermes, and he wore _manly_ clothes even if the only thing he found himself double-checking were boys. Hermes failed to straighten him up some, but anyone in his family knew he was bisexual.

He shrugged his shoulders and walked out of the closet—_oh, the irony of it all_.

Ares nodded at his outfit and threw a glance at the lingerie in his arms. "She really thought that you're Artemis, huh."

"She knew my sister—I personally wanted revenge for mistaking me as Artemis and putting me into..." He could not even finish his sentence, as he blushed hard at the memory of wearing a thin two-piece bikini. "Something revealing," he said instead.

Ares' lip twitched and his face gained a slight pinkish color that disappeared almost immediately. "That woman can't take the hint," he growled, rolling his shoulders threateningly. "She's a mink."

"She's a monster," Apollo mumbled, restraining himself. Ares heard him. He blushed. "Stupid guessing," he muttered pathetically.

"Well, she's a monster, then," Ares agreed, chuckling.

Apollo could not stop it anymore. "Ares—?" he started, slightly hesitant. Would the god of war get angry at—he cut his thoughts off.

"Yeah, kid?" Ares encouraged, looking slightly curious.

"Where's that I-hate-you-and-you-hate-me thing that my friend that met you is talking about?"

Ares looked surprised. "You didn't guess? Well, I am keeping it to a minimum since we do not want to antagonize our own members. I only pull _it_ out when I'm trying to find something to relieve boredom."

Apollo blushed heavily at his words and coughed awkwardly. He kept on finding innocent words from Ares something to think thoroughly.

"I was wondering how it would feel," he told him honestly, "how it would be to hate someone who you don't really hate at first."

Ares furrowed his brows. "I'll keep it to a minimum," he reminded himself.

Apollo braced himself for the hating, and Ares dropped the heavy feeling of irritation into him. Apollo felt like he wanted to throttle the war god as he straightened himself. Ares was sneering, taunting him. Apollo growled and blinked when he found himself right in front of the war god. He blushed at the nearness and took a step back, controlling the irritation until it vanished completely.

"You stopped," mused Ares, observing him keenly. "You've got control. What were you thinking? I thought let it fall full force on you."

"You—you're my boss," he answered. _You are my hot—amazingly skilled in fighting—boss. Attacking you would be like defacing you._

Ares' impressed look did not vanish as he nodded. "We can make this your battle armor... unless you decline...?"

Apollo nodded, wishing to get out of the leather lest the warlord notice his skin. It did not make him sweat, not at all. People would wonder why he was as cool as ever in his clothes, and would have to make up lies.

"Yes, I'd like that. I'd rather wear normal clothes here..." he trailed off, looking away.

Ares gave him a look. "I'm still putting every inch of force down on you," he said, looking perturbed by his control. "What kind of concentration are you doing, kid? This stuff is usually effective."

Apollo indeed felt the mist of annoyance and irritation probing him, especially the urge to beat the life out of Ares, but he resisted. If he hurt Ares, he would be minced meat. Although he was a good fighter, he was practically a newborn baby to Ares' matured fighting skills. Not to mention Ares mastered every fighting skill available in the universe, leaving nothing, except Apollo's own techniques.

_Damn, I guessed again._ He bit his lip. "I'm thinking of my own survival," Apollo muttered. "I'm sure you will _always_ win a war, or a fight. Many have tried to put you down but—" he pulled on his hair, frustrated. "I guessed again," he said glumly.

Ares raised a brow in askance. "You really hate this guessing talent of yours, huh?" he mused.

Apollo grimaced, unable to hide his displeasure from him. He disliked it too much, since more people find his talent handy. He found that those people found him a convenient person to go to when they wanted to find something. There was one time that someone even asked him who killed the student from this one class... and he disturbingly found out the director killed him for spilling the dark secrets of the school. He immediately changed schools with the help of his sister, Artemis.

"I don't like it when people use me," he muttered. "They simply befriend me for my... talent."

Ares' look turned dark. "I really hate those people who use me too," he said, patting his head. Apollo blushed. "I have no choice back then, do I? I have to follow orders back then until I won everything, not even knowing a few of my soldiers were playing on the other field, spying. We have things that we dislike that we rather not think about."

Apollo hummed in agreement, liking the way Ares understood him, as a knocking on the office door turned their attentions away from each other. Apollo knew it was a messenger from the other building.

"Let's go," Ares ordered.

Apollo followed him out, making sure to lock the door, as Ares did not like it open to anyone he did not know. It was the first time he let someone in his room. Apollo blushed at his guess, feeling lighter. Ares did not mind him at all. If he only knew he was the sun god, what would he do? First, Apollo would try not to guess the answer to that question.

"Get in," Ares snapped, taking a seat behind his desk as Apollo stood beside his big red chair.

A woman opened the door hesitantly, wearing a messenger bag. "General Ares, I've brought the arranged paperwork for you," she stammered in fear, walking up to the desk to place the pile of paper at the side. She ran out of the office once Ares dismissed her. She never stole a glance form Apollo. _Awesome handling, boss,_ he thought.

Ares groaned, slapping a hand on his forehead. "Damn it," he cursed, growling. "I'd rather not do anything right now."

Apollo smiled slightly at his childish antics. "I know which one to burn, boss—I mean, Ares."

Ares turned to look at him appreciatively, as if wanting to kiss the feet he walked on. Apollo knew the fake greed on his face was for show, so he gave him a grin in return. Ares did not want to use him, truly. He never would. Apollo knew this even without guessing.

"I knew you were useful," Ares boasted, although Apollo knew he was joking.

"I'm sure you'll discover that very soon," Apollo murmured quietly, watching the way Ares handled his work on the desk.

He never guessed that Ares was ambidextrous as he signed the papers. _I wonder how they would feel..._

Apollo blushed and told Ares that he should not sign the next paper since it was a prank from one of the supervisors. He also accidentally slipped the initials, and Ares was chuckling darkly, glaring as he read the paper regardless, and murmuring _how_ exactly he would punish the prankster.

Apollo just _adored_ how his new boss thought. _Maybe I can survive his fighting skills after this_.

-_**AresApollo End**_-

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><p>If you have any <em>pairing<em> requests, may you pm/review/send a message immediately

**Pendings:**

**HadesPercy** (I read the plot, and it was awesome, but it needs to be _needed_ before he gives it out.)  
><strong>HermesNico<strong> (The plot is being discussed, he said, but it's not the usual thief version. The HadesPercy has AresApollo, HermesNico and HephaestusAprodite, also some Stollcest.)  
><strong>HephaestusAprodite<strong> (It has an awesome, romantic and mysterious plot. Although it's hetero, it is approved by my secretary, too.)

P.S.: Requests are indeed available.  
>P.P.S.: Did you know what kind of Hades there is in the story? It's new and the plot is amazing~<p>

Love,  
><strong>SelC<strong>


	4. Help From Uncle Hades, Apollo Badass-ing

**Title:** Hold Your Position  
><strong>Rate:<strong> T  
><strong>Genre:<strong> Romance, Slash, Humor  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Apollo needs a timeout. He felt utterly destroyed one time, and no one knows why. Really, it's not because he's sick or something. He just really misses his mom. (Not the real Summary)  
><strong>Warning:<strong> Innuendos and an odd, OOCed Ares because of a potion. Hints of slash(gayness to be blunt), cursing, and very disturbing gods having an OOC streak... sometimes. **Criticism** and **flames **are allowed. Mentions of pedophilia, perversion and mad fanfiction ideas.

**Prompt: **Apollo hearing perverted things when Ares orders him around.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything... not at all. Well, you would not even be reading this if you do _not _know, right? I don't own _anything_. Not at all. You can contact my secretary and writer. 

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><p><strong>Hold Your Position<strong>

_**Ares**_

_**Five years ago, at a certain place…**_

He _lost_. He _lost_ to a _kid_. He _lost_ to a demigod by the name of _Perseus Jackson_, the Son of Poseidon. He lost, _again_. He could not believe it.

Earlier, when the whispers of mischief came to him, he did not oblige. The idea of stealing his father's most precious weapon trickled itself into his mind like water, slow and yet spreading fluidly. The last time he had stolen his father's weapon, the Master Bolt, he had given the sky god really, _really_ pissed. Ares, of course, did the same thing before, back then when the boy was just a tad bit shorter and skinnier. They fought each other, the god of war and the son of the second most powerful god, and Ares lost pathetically.

Percy caught him, stubbing his toe with his puny sword that he called Riptide, _Anaklusmos_. Least to say, Ares was extremely displeased, to the point that he cursed Percy. Ares swore that Riptide would fail him when he needed it the most. It happened, of course, when the boy battled with Artemis against Atlas. Then he defeated Ares, _again_.

He was innocent this time, and although it was Hermes' childish idea, all evidence pointed back at him. Percy had to make the same quest again, this time without Ares in the scene. The boy bribed Charon, accused Hades of having the Master Bolt once more, and then they bantered about how the Master Bolt magically appeared in his backpack, which Hermes told Ares to leave randomly in a store. He did not want to be a messenger boy, but he still did as Hermes requested, since his brother had a very convincing proposal.

Ares would be able to battle a strong fighter in exchange for the favor.

Ares truly did not know how Hades' Helm of Darkness appeared in his room inconspicuously. He already thought of Hermes, since he was the only one to wander in the Underworld and Olympus. Therefore, when Ares found it, he surrendered the symbol of power to the Underworld god and received his promised reward from Hermes. He fought Percy Jackson, the son of Poseidon, and lost.

He still could not believe it.

"You are thinking too deeply for my liking, Ares," Hades deadpanned. His black eyes locked with his, making him nervous in his plush seat. The Underworld god was still one of the Big Three, of course. He would never even try to defy the Underworld god.

"What I'm trying to say," Percy said exasperatedly, "is that you have to be patient and calm. You're known for your short temper, like me, but I have the control since I practiced."

Just recently, when Ares lost, he forced Percy to reveal his secret in defeating him once more. The demigod admitted a few _tips_ after Ares confessed that Hermes did the prank, this time. Ares secretly stabbed himself inwardly for resorting to asking his secret, even though he already had an idea of Percy's techniques. The boy fought calmly and with an analytical look in his green eyes.

"I already know that, kid," he grumbled, unable to growl since the Underworld god stared him down. Although Ares could inflict annoyance, irritation, terror and fear in someone, the Underworld god could do it much more powerfully than him. He just experienced it earlier when Hades made a surprise entrance at his home.

"It's just…" The boy paused and pursed his lip, looking equally disturbed by Hades' presence. "You, uh, have to focus entirely on defending while inwardly finding a weak spot. You can really defeat me if not for your short temper, too. I tried to cut the impatience out of me, using every calming activity I could think of."

Ares raised a brow at that. "Are you trying to say you actually tried meditating and that yoga shit?"

Percy's mouth twitched. "I did those things, too. With mom's help, I released stress in a, well, meditation."

"Am I supposed to believe that you thought of this by yourself? You heard this calm crap from someone else, did you?"

The demigod stole a very short glance at the Underworld god and it was enough evidence for Ares. Ares knew the Underworld god for his lunatic gaze. This time, the crazed look in them did not show. He actually look very calm, not the power-hungry god. Percy, the demigod, perhaps noticed this and tried it for himself.

"I have to lower my pride," Ares said slowly, watching as Percy nodded. "I have to make my victory to be less, is that it? To not achieve more than I want to, that's something I have never done before."

Percy nodded vigorously. "Yeah," he agreed. Percy's face turned somber. "It's not only that, Ares, but you have to make up your mind and stay in one team. Don't change fields so often just because you find it amusing."

Ares' scowl was small, since he could still smell death in his room. "You mean I can't cause a feud and play tag team on both sides?"

"Yes!" the boy shouted, looking relieved. "You have to choose one team, one that you really believe that will be your champion team, not a play team."

Ares thought about it and let the grimace show on his face. "How about I make my enemies fight each other with my team still safe?"

Percy looked conflicted as he stared through him. "That… kind of makes sense. You're playing double agent in the skirmish; letting the enemies kill each other before you strike… is that it?"

Ares nodded his agreement and the demigod seemed to think of something.

"You know, your counterpart Mars, is calm and uses more strategy perfectly, too. He's more on military, but since you're more of yourself, it would be the perfect combination of the both of your talents."

Ares could get what Percy was saying. "You're telling me that I have to blend my personalities to get a better view on things," he said dryly.

"You could try not to curse people's weapon, too," the demigod replied with a grim smile. Ares glared and the boy stammered, "Well, that's your choice, of course."

"I have a suggestion."

They both stiffened at the creepy deep voice and glanced at the Underworld god. Black eyes looked at them, flat and serious. Ares saw Percy turn red and swallow hard. "Uh, yeah?" the demigod squeaked. The boy noticed and cleared his throat.

"Ares, do you have knowledge of the Olympian Army, in the mortal realm?" questioned Hades as he turned to him. "There, your team _The Chariot_ came about, yes? If you ask to have a vacation there, which my brother will gladly accept, you can train your anger. If you survive without killing anyone for a year, you will receive something special from me."

Ares stared, and even Percy did so, too. "Are you not mad that I got into this mess?"

"I have high regards for people who can talk with my nephew, calmly. You put your pride to a side and asked for something. You returned my Helm of Darkness and presented yourself as _someone_ else besides the god of war. And, although you are the son of my brother, you are my nephew, too."

"That's creepy," Ares said before he could stop himself. He winced slightly and stole a glance at his uncle.

Hades said it with a straight face. His dark eyes were softer, from metal to cotton, and he looked slightly amused. "Well, you have brought me deaths of expert assassins, killers and an assorted list of fighters. This will be added to my army, of course."

Percy rolled his eyes bravely. "That last one made me hear reality." _You are an idiot, Perseus Jackson. Brave or you really are just an idiot._

The Underworld god gave them both a small smirk. "And you, Perseus Jackson, will have to train in _my_ domain."

"What!"

From there, the two of them entered a heated banter, although it was one-sided. Percy complained while Hades explained that it was his punishment for assuming that Hades stole the Master Bolt for the second time. Ares caught a glimpse of red on the boy's cheeks, and the Underworld god looked pleased with himself. The boy stammered an apology for his outburst and slumped in his seat.

It amused Ares that Hades gave the boy a satisfied leer. "As now you have an idea of how to train yourself, I will do my own training."

The Underworld god disappeared, as well as the demigod. Ares waited for a few minutes, and left his palace to wander and think. He frowned when he saw Hebe running around in circles while giggling, saying that she would make a certain demigod have a stopped youth, as well as his family, as a reward for helping her with a task.

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><p><em><strong>Now, at "The Chariot"<strong>_

Having Apollo in the agency brought him more entertainment than he ever thought. After Apollo slipped and said the initials of that one supervisor that owned that idiot of a subordinate, he already planned to take him on. He would also take the entire division on a challenge. Anyone who lost will have to quit, or die.

Ares felt slightly proud of the kid's loyalty to him. He knew the boy could never tell a lie to him. He had a good sense of people. He knew which ones would betray him even before they started. He knew he could see it in their eyes. Apollo's brilliant sky-shaded eyes told him more than he needed.

Ares would personally train the boy himself. He could clearly visualize it—Apollo, his most loyal and powerful trump card, and a close friend bordering on brotherly. His secret, amazing cook, too.

He chuckled at the thought and watched as the kid separated the useless papers from the more important ones. He was so concentrated that he did not even notice the time. Both of them were in a comfortable silence. Ares did not even want to disturb him, seeing as the boy even looked as if he was enjoying himself. _Hmm, maybe he is enjoying this because I am with him._

"You never did this with anyone, have you?" The kid flushed bright red and nodded, eyes darting to the papers and to him. Ares smirked. "You're actually enjoying yourself."

"I never really thought of it," Apollo stammered shyly. "I think it _is_ fun because we're doing this together."

There was something in his words and it made Ares part his lips in surprise. Something was hidden in there, although Ares could not dig it properly yet. There was something in Apollo's eyes making him wish to learn about him even more. His heart raced for no reason and he grinned slightly.

"You like team work," Ares noted. "Others want the fame for themselves."

Apollo furrowed his brows. "I did not even realize that. I just thought that I wanted to help you, to divide the work so it can be . . . easier for you. Not to offend you though, boss. Although, you did say you didn't like paperwork, so it's practically torture rather than a challenge for you."

Ares understood him completely. "It's not my favorite pastime," he grunted.

"I know," Apollo said, sounding amused. "I think you're amazing for enduring the years of paperwork though."

Ares chuckled and ruffled his head. The boy blushed red and shook his head. "Just remember, it's not always that I'm amazing. Just meet me in the battlefield and you'll know."

"I'll try not to guess about that next time." Apollo was grimacing lightly.

It amused him that Apollo could not help but resort to his talent when he needed to learn something. He knew the boy did not even dare to use it regularly, as he thought of it something odd. The kid reminded him of the president of _The Delphi_, some mysterious girl that actually kept herself hidden from anyone but sent warnings of dooms with oddly the perfect poem ever. She never showed his face to anyone, but Artemis always told him not to mind it.

Later, when Artemis left, she admitted that the only agency that _The Delphi_ supported was their low-level (it was back then) agency. The more messages sent, although it was a cryptic as hell warning instead of something specific, became helpful. _The Delphi_ never sent anything that made sense to him, and he was thankful regardless. However, he would never admit _that_. The agency ranked up, and he, the lowly messenger, got into the general position almost as quickly.

"Hey, boss," Apollo started hesitantly.

"It's Ares, kid," he muttered, blinking as the boy nodded seriously. "What is it?"

"You don't really mind that . . . I'm some kind of weird guesser?"

Ares let a small smirk slip on his face. "Is that a trick question?"

Apollo could not even stop the bright smile on his face. "I wanted to know it from you, though." The boy laughed, or giggled, whatever.

"Not really," Ares answered. "Didn't we already get through this?"

"Yeah, but, um, I'm not really sure if my talent's a little too freaky for anyone. The last place all knew about my weird talent, but Artemis staged my death—"

Ares interrupted, "Are you serious? That kid would never do that while in my agency. When did that happen?"

It was something that Artemis never mentioned. Ares growled inwardly, cursing the girl for leaving out that she staged a death for someone. It would have been cool to hear it personally from her, but maybe Apollo would elaborate clearly. _Could she really do that?_

"Yes, I'm serious. She did it before she left the agency. She placed my name in a private plane and crashed it, but she made the survivors live. I'm not sure how she achieved it, though."

Ares glared at the surface of the table. "It sounds boring," he drawled. He shook his head. "What's new outside besides war?"

Apollo looked thoughtful. "Perhaps it may be the technology, but it's nothing big. There was one time in my school where I snapped and kind of . . . beat up my bullies." The kid turned red and sighed. "It was their fault, though! They thought I was Artemis and I got angry that they wanted to bully her. One of my friends drilled that bullying anyone close is absolutely the top of his hate list."

Ares perked up. "You used the moves that you used against Artemis?"

"Yes," Apollo admitted, looking sheepish. "Do you, um, wish to be able to—?"

Ares chuckled. "You're not offending me, and sure," he said, watching as his tense form relaxed slightly. "She wasn't even in school, right?"

"Not at all," Apollo gritted through his teeth. "Since she was here as a second-in-command, Lieutenant General."

Ares raised a brow at his unusual reaction. "You worry about her so much."

"She isn't really trained enough," Apollo said, closing his mouth shut after a moment. It was so loud that his teeth clicked together. "Her skills are still improving," he explained.

Ares frowned at that. Was Apollo more of a superior fighter than Artemis? "What weapon do you usually handle?"

Apollo sputtered and turned red. "Excuse me?"

"What gun, if that's what you prefer," Ares verified.

"Hmm," the boy hummed, glancing out the window behind him. "I am good at long-range, or at least that's what Artemis and I have in common."

"You're a good sniper, like her?" Ares questioned, intrigued. Could someone really defeat the womanly girl in sniping?

"I'm . . . decent," Apollo managed, blushing. He looked back at his own set of paperwork. "I can do it from any range or angle."

Ares, to put it simply, was amazed. Hearing the truth and modesty in his voice made him know that Apollo disliked the expectations that everyone would try to place in him. "That's one more on the list of skills you have."

"Not really, since I've trained with a few people," Apollo murmured politely, smiling slightly. "One of them came from here, I guess, and the others . . ." Apollo coughed and blushed, looking away.

"Someone from here trained you?" Ares blinked rapidly. _I guess, he said. It means someone else besides Artemis._

"Yes, you're going to meet him soon once more."

Ares could slowly feel that the boy was relaxing in his presence. If he could guess _correctly_, like Apollo, then the boy actually considered him a close friend. The boy knew about teamwork as he chose Ares to be his comrade and be loyal to him. He was wary of the people in the canteen because he did not trust them enough.

"You're like a puppy," he commented, watching as the boy whipped his head at him, looking surprised.

"A puppy?" he questioned, tone disappointed and confused.

"Or maybe a ferocious guard dog," he added. _If you actually want to get past the kid, you have to go through his skills_.

The kid looked slightly amused. "Really, boss? Am I a guard dog and a puppy?"

Ares' lips twitched. "I'll choose a mouse," he conceded, smirking when the boy turned incredulous.

"A mouse," the boy told himself dryly. "I'm a tiny mouse, huh?" The boy giggled, or maybe he laughed.

"Well, you can take something girly, like a swan."

Apollo burst out laughing. "Oh, that's good, too! I'm a swan, or a mouse."

Ares felt amusement filling him completely, watching as the boy laughed once more, and adding a few more animals in the pile. He looked more optimistic, working and smiling as he put a large red sign on the papers, deeming them useless. Ares only told him that because he wanted the boy to speak for himself, but then it somehow backfired. He took the names to himself, murmuring about how those animals seemed cute.

"Okay, done!" Apollo announced, stretching in the black, shiny leather trench coat. He put the files aside and craned his neck to look at him with bright eyes. "What are we going to do next?"

"We're going to arrange it," Ares said, frowning as the boy smiled slowly. "It's done, isn't it?" he asked warily.

"Yes, boss," he confirmed. "I did it while signing the rejected ones. Sometimes the talent comes in handy when you want to check if the artillery and the storage are _really_ empty."

Ares' mouth curled into a small smile. "Those idiots don't know what's coming to them," he grumbled.

The boy looked slightly hesitant. "Are we going to go back out there?"

"Yeah, we're going to have to make rounds to make sure not even the other supervisors are slacking off."

"They called you General Ares," Apollo mumbled. "The agency uses the U.S. Army rankings to rank the people here," he stated, tapping his lips.

Ares' eyes followed the movement, blinking as he tried to snap out of it. _What are you doing, Ares?_ "Are you still scared?"

"No," Apollo stammered, nervousness evident on his face. "I just don't know what to do with them, and I don't want to rely much on my freaky talent."

"You can use it to scare them, if you want," Ares said. He wanted to see how he would control the situation if it ever got out of hand. "That way, they won't bully you too much." Ares smirked when the boy scowled lightly.

"They _bully_ people?" Apollo shut his eyes close. "They _do_ bully people, especially new ones that Artemis sends here."

Ares remembered that one time when his new private fainted. He forgot to mention to the boy that bullying in the agency could be fatal, and that it included guns. Challenges, which could be anywhere, so long as they keep it clean and amusing, is always finished with witnesses. He could never forget how many supervisors Artemis kicked out, eradicating them completely for their incompetence to follow the rules and for staying loyal to the adversary.

"They do," answered Ares. "I already told Artemis not to put the sensitive ones in the agency, but she insisted. The bit—_girl_ kept on getting the ones surely sensitive."

"Oh," Apollo murmured, peering up at him. "I'm . . . kind of sensitive too, huh? Is that why they bully the neophytes?"

"If you show them weakness, they'll chew on that. You're not that sensitive, though, and others cried already."

"People have fears, and not even I can deny this. If _these_ bullying children keep on pounding on their weakness, they will retaliate and will cause problems in the agency."

Ares perked up slightly at the odd statement of the boy. It was as if he gained more than years in just a short amount of time. "You're serious now."

"I just," Apollo struggled with the words evidently, as his blue eyes darted away from Ares' auburn eyes. "I just hate it when they bully the weaker. One of my friends really hated it, too, especially when they teased his best friend. I somehow drilled into my mind that bullying is not something I should just watch out. They should have a taste of their own medicine."

Apollo looked utterly vengeful and sly as he let a small evil smile appear on his face.

Ares let a smirk slip on his face. The kid was determined to punish anyone who dared challenge the weaker. "They're wimps, kid. I really mind nothing if you _do_ give them a taste of their own medicine. That should put them a peg or two down."

Apollo turned slightly nervous once more, and the fire in his eyes vanished. "You're not going to leave me there alone, right?" he stammered, eyes filled with dread. "I'm not sure how to handle it without you there."

_Oh, shit. He really is a mouse. What am I, a dog?_ Nevertheless, Apollo's blue eyes were as convincing as a puppy, so he complied. "Alright," he grunted, somehow irritated that he accepted.

Apollo let out a beautiful—_what?—_smile. "Thank you, Ares."

Ares felt his face turn warm, and he willed the blood away. "Yeah, kid. It should probably balance them out."

"I'll accept their challenges," Apollo promised, grinning at him with utter relief. "I'll even kick their butts for you when they plan on lazing off."

Ares nodded. "Just remember the regulations, kid. You can change now."

The boy smiled gratefully. "Okay, boss."

The kid leaped from the floor and walked to his room, humming a tune he did not recognize. It took him only a moment to get dressed in normal clothes. Ares raised a brow at the bright clothes, wondering where the boy took it.

"I'm ready," answered Apollo before he could even ask him. The boy adjusted his pale red jacket and double-checked his belt. "Well, at least this feels slightly more comfortable," the boy muttered to himself.

"Let's see how this turns out, then." Ares stood up and Apollo followed him out as he left the office.

They used the stairs this time, and Apollo did not seem to mind the long way down. Rumor has it that no one even used the stairs anymore because Ares used it more regularly than the elevator. He did not care though, since he wanted the stairs for himself when he needed to train himself. He did not become the god of war for nothing, after all. He needed to set in his reputation and make sure his enemies think twice of trying to challenge him.

_Damn, I really need a good fight right now._ He wanted to fight someone good. Perhaps Percy Jackson could relieve his boredom at his next visit to his uncle. The boy surely taught him a few things about people, too, when they camped outside the vicinity out of boredom. Of course, his uncle disliked the idea at first, but the boy persuaded him to join, too. After a terrifying battle with his uncle, and another from the boy, he could tell himself to have a peaceful sleep.

He even managed to make his uncle help in clearing their things away.

They stopped at the door, and Apollo's hand grabbed his arm tightly. "Ah, sorry," the boy stammered, face red. He pulled his hand away as Ares observed how he gained concentration.

The boy took a few deep breaths and calm appeared in his eyes. The gentle look on his face amazed Ares. Apollo surprised him when he threw him a smile and changed his stance into something more arrogant, which would more likely attract ill attention. The boy pushed the door open, and they both got out. The blond-haired kid tucked his hands inside his jacket and a small smirk played over his lips.

_Fuck_, Ares thought, _where did he hide that personality?_ An unfamiliar heat filled his body with excitement. Although, if the heat tried to create the excitement to fight, it did not feel the same, as it felt different. It left him feeling more pleasant, not bloodthirsty.

The boy took a confident and serious walk, face slightly apathetic except for the playful mischief in his eyes. There was a hint of power in his walk, something that assured Ares that the boy could take care of himself regardless of his fears.

Ares stopped his walk and chose to slow down a few paces behind, choosing to observe. It would do great to find weaknesses to make the boy pass through his tests more successfully.

Apollo did not even stop to slow down, too. He walked calmly in the same pace, and gave people a leveled look that made them turn away. His blue eyes even turned taunting, provoking, and daring. Apollo wanted them to accept the bait.

Ares locked his eyes with a supervisor that looked very furious with Apollo's pseudo-arrogance and sent an irritable determination to the man. The supervisor dropped a curse from his mouth and shouted a challenge. Apollo paused and turned, stealing a glance at him before he looked back at the supervisor.

"Are you sure?" Apollo breathed, lowering his eyelids.

Ares completely froze at the tone. It was entirely different, something heavier and much more enticing. He did not understand how he suddenly felt a pleasant hum in his body. He shook his head and leaned on a wall, amused. Perhaps it was one of the boy's talents.

"I'm as sure as hell, bastard," the supervisor spat. Apollo visibly winced with disappointment. "You walk in here like you own the place!"

"Oh my," Apollo started, placing a hand on his chest, blue eyes looking utterly hurt and mocking. "Did I hurt your feelings? I'm sorry, but it's not my fault that you stick to the wall like a mourning black horsefly."

Ares snorted when the supervisor lunged at Apollo. When will they ever learn not to judge a book by its cover? His uncle should really send Percy Jackson in the agency for a vacation. Heck, even the sweet little Apollo knew how to control himself.

Apollo only used three moves and he broke the supervisor's arm, even going as far to dislocate his shoulder. The man was a hissing mess on the floor after, whimpering in pain.

Apollo glowered at the man and smiled. "You see, Eddie, even _you_ can't touch me like you wanted. You are a very perverted pedophile, after all. Using children as toys like that is very disturbing. Do you want your mother, Gloria, to know about this? I can send her a message right now."

The man's face was a shade of pale white as he sputtered words that did not even make sense. There was an ocean of fear evident in his eyes as he trembled before his Lieutenant General. Ares did not even know about his exploits.

Ares smirked. "Now, now, kid. We don't want to involve the mother right now."

"It's awful how he just used this one neophyte and killed her, though, boss," Apollo said in one breath, looking confused. "The girl's body, well, he burned it at an enemy cottage." Apollo's eyes darkened even further as he guessed even more.

Ares sent the supervisor a look. "You can do what you want, kid. Kill him dead

Apollo snapped the man's neck, eyes glowing with a fiery emotion behind them. Ares did not like the sadness behind them. It looked as if Apollo was a different person. Seeing Apollo very upset made him feel oddly peeved. Apollo's eyes watched as the man took his last breath. Apollo calmed down then, smiling slightly.

"One spy down," Ares muttered under his breath.

Apollo accepted a few more challenges as they walked around on a patrol. A few of them were the bullies that took Apollo's childish appearance for granted. Some of them were spies that Ares already listed in his mind.

Apollo defeated anyone who challenged him. Some of the forced ones, he was slightly lighter. He only used a few moves, three or four, and brought down his enemy. He even played with some of them, taunting them by evading. Graceful as Apollo fought, the clumsier he saw his subordinates fight. The elite supervisors did not even stand a chance, and even their most graceful fighter turned into a quacking duck in front of Apollo.

"I think they're done," Apollo told him when they stopped by the lobby. The woman behind the counter blushed at the sight of Apollo.

Ares rolled his eyes at the action. "It's good to know they did not touch you." _That, I will never allow. Who knows how many pedophiles are here in the agency?_

"Not at all, boss," said Apollo happily, beaming at him as if he did not kill someone earlier. "I don't like that they keep on staring at you. They might lose a hand if they touch me—I do not like them much, and a few I tolerate. A very few, the neophytes, I can understand."

"All those screaming idiots deserved it." Ares sneered at the woman, and she bowed her head back at the computer. "Damn slackers can't even amuse me anymore. The day drags slowly though."

"Boss, it's about nine o'clock," Apollo informed him.

_Damn, I missed dinner._ "Fuck," Ares cursed aloud, shutting his mouth for a moment. "We missed—"

Apollo handed him a pouch. Ares' lips twitched into a tiny, knowing smile as he took the small pouch from him. He opened it, seeing a foiled object inside.

"What is this?" he asked, curious. He could not tell what the foil covered. Was it some kind of drug? Did Apollo even do drugs?

Apollo blushed and motioned him to lower his head. Ares leaned down slightly and Apollo stood on his toes, whispering in his ear words he could not believe.

"That's ambrosia," Apollo breathed into his ear. Ares felt his hot breath warm the half of his face. "I just thought to bring it with me."

Apollo pulled away with a very red face, murmuring something under his breath about something "hot". Ares blinked at the foil, furrowing his brows. How could Apollo get his hands on ambrosia? Only gods could have their hands on ambrosia. Who could have—?

"Hermes," Ares grunted. _Figures that idiot would leave ambrosia lying around somewhere._

He took the foil and slipped it open, eating one square of the god food. He felt refreshed immediately, and full. Apollo slowly smiled and nodded at him.

"We're going to train tomorrow," Ares declared, placing the pouch and the square inside his pocket. "Now, though, let's get _you_ some food. We don't want you fainting on our training, right?"

Apollo blushed and looked down. "I, uh, already ate," he stammered.

Ares perked up. "Oh," he murmured. _We just passed the canteen earlier, right. He probably took something from the canteen._ "We're going to sign new paperwork then," he grumbled, knowing that the other side of the building sent another pile of work.

"About that, boss . . . it's not going to be difficult this time." The boy grinned slightly, the small confidence oozing off him as they walked back to the stairs.

-_**AresApollo End**_-

* * *

><p>If you have any <em>pairing<em> requests, may you pm/review/send a message.

**Pendings:**

**HadesPercy** (I read the plot, and it was awesome, but it needs to be _needed_ before he gives it out.)  
><strong>HermesNico<strong> (The plot is being discussed, he said, but it's not the usual thief version. The HadesPercy has AresApollo, HermesNico and HephaestusAprodite, also some Stollcest.)  
><strong>HephaestusAprodite<strong> (It has an awesome, romantic and mysterious plot. Although it's hetero, it is approved by my secretary, too.)

P.S.: Requests are indeed available.  
>P.P.S.: Did you know what kind of Hades there is in the story? It's new and the plot is amazing~<p>

P.P.P.S.: I need a fanfiction buddy who likes slash and etc. I've moved to another country and I'm not feeling the fanfiction hives rattling my mind with ideas! Darlings, help!

Love,  
><strong>SelC<strong>

"_Sun will touch the glorious blade of fury,  
>and all its grievous sin is buried<br>in cloths of white and platinum and gold  
>with actions that must be severe and cold.<em>"  
>~Valsair<br>Amaryllis Fox  
>SW<p> 


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